Sidekick Envy
by elfinblue
Summary: Perseus, jealous of Hercules' reputation as "the greatest hero Greece has ever known", decides that the secret to his half-brother's success is having a doting little companion following him around and inspiring him to great deeds with his adulation. So he tries to steal Iolaus.


**Author's note: **Don't panic! If you're reading my Supernatural - NCIS crossover "When Worlds Collide", I have not abandoned it and I have NOT started a new story. I started this years ago and just found it lurking in my document folder. I couldn't get Open Office to read it, so I thought I'd try uploading it to see if it worked. Since it did, I figured I'd go ahead and post it. It's not complete. It needs, I'm thinking, maybe one more chapter the same size this is. I will get around to finishing it, but maybe not until after I finish "Worlds". At any rate, I'm going to keep posting at least one chapter of "Worlds" per week until it's done and I won't let this little thing interfere with that.

If you decide to read this, I'm not sure if the unflattering portrayal of Perseus is strictly canon or if it's fanon for H:TLJ. I do know that in actual Greek mythology Perseus was not a contemporary of Hercules. He was, as the show had it, Herc's half-brother, but he was also his grandfather on his mother's side. Greek mythology is _weird! _Just . . . go with it. ;)

Rated T for suggestive comments about goats.

Disclaimer: Hades made me do it.

. . . .

Sidekick Envy

by elfinblue

. . . .

Woodsmoke from the small campfire drifted up towards the stars, the scent mingling with the fragrance of night-blooming flowers and the lingering aromas of roast rabbit and baked tubers. A stream ran past a few feet to the south. Tree frogs trilled along the streambanks and an owl's mournful call rode the light breeze.

Hercules, son of Zeus, sat on a log and stared across the fire. He sat with his feet firm on the ground, his massive weight shifted forward. His right elbow rested on his right knee and he cupped his chin in his right hand.

Across from him, Iolaus of Thebes sat on his own log. Iolaus' body was turned towards his left. His shoulders were hunched, his head down in an attitude of dejection and despair. He held both hands over his face and spoke brokenly, sobbing out the words.

". . . and I just don't see how a poor, puny, insignificant mortal like me could ever be worth the friendship and companionship of the greatest hero Greece has ever known!"

He sat up abruptly, dropped his hands, swivelled to face Hercules directly and continued in a normal tone of voice. "And I'm thinking, well, gee, maybe if you stopped snivelling all the time and, hey! I don't know . . . _grew a backbone or something?!_ So, anyway, then the 'Hero' says," He turned again, this time facing to his right, planted his left hand on his chest and raised his right hand in the manner of an orator. "Real, more-Olympian-than-thou, patronizing bastard sort, right?" he added in an aside to his partner.

Hercules nodded encouragingly.

Iolaus dropped back into the "Hero" character, deepened his voice half an octave and proclaimed, "MY. DEAR. LITTLE. FRIEND! I realize it must be daunting to travel with me. To always seem invisible to others, blinded by my heroic magnificence. I know you seldom get the respect you feel you deserve. And I know that at times you even doubt yourself." Iolaus dropped out of character for a second. "And I'm thinking, 'gee, really? You think maybe that's what he was blubbering about five seconds ago?" He resumed the posture and continued. "I know that at times you even doubt yourself. But I never doubt you! The hero worship I see in your eyes means more to me than the accolades of all of Greece and I swear, I wouldn't be half the remarkable champion I am without my little, blond buddy by my side!"

Hercules was laughing into his cupped hand as Iolaus let the character fall away and turned again to face him fully. "Well, after that they stopped for an intermission and, I gotta tell you, I'm glad they did because I was about to lose my anise-seed candy! So I turned to the redhead. You remember? The one -"

"The one you followed into the theater," Hercules nodded to show he was still with his friend.

"Right. So, I turned to her and I said, 'so, what do you think of the play?' and she sniffled," (Iolaus sniffled) "and she dabbed at her eyes," (he dabbed at his eyes) "and she said," he clasped his hands under his chin and beamed up at Hercules. "'Oh! I think it's the most wonderful play! It's just so _special_ that such a big, strong hero could have a gentle place in his heart for his dear little mortal friend! And you know what the best part is? It's all _true_! The story is based on a real hero and his real friend!' So I'm thinking, that's funny. I know most of the heroes in Greece and this play sure isn't ringing any bells with me. So I said, 'really? Who's it supposed to be?' And you know what she said? Do you? Do you! Do you _know_ what she _said_?"

Hercules, eyes dancing, trying hard to choke back laughter, thought he had a very good idea indeed what she said. He just shook his head.

Iolaus clasped his hands under his chin and resumed the redhead's persona, but this time there was a grim undertone to the simpering voice and shards of steel behind his eyes. "'Why, the play is based on Hercules and his arglearglearglegurrghhh.'" He choked on the words and had to take a deep, calming breath before he could spit the rest of it out between clenched teeth. "'and his _little blond buddy, Iolaus_!' Me!" he bellowed. He jumped up and loomed at Hercules from across the fire. It shouldn't have been possible for someone of Iolaus' stature to loom over someone of Hercules', even when he was standing and the demi-god still seated, but Iolaus loomed nonetheless. "That snivelling, whining, cringing little . . . ." Words failed him and he was reduced to growling incoherently and making strangling motions with his hands. "Was supposed to be ME!" He emphasized the word by thumping himself in the chest with both fists, then stood there breathing heavily and waiting for his partner to stop laughing.

"So that would make me the more-Olympian-than-thou, patronizing bastard?" Herc clarified when he'd gotten his giggles under control.

"Ah, but at least you're an _heroic_ more-Olympian-than-thou, patronizing bastard! I'm nothing but a weak, slimy little sycophant!"

Hercules resisted the urge to say, "I don't think you're slimy," but it was hard. Instead he said, "well, at least someone's noticed you exist finally!"

Iolaus just crossed his arms and glared at him. "You know, I really love it when you get in that 'hey! Let's look at the bright side!' mood!"

"Well, then, hey! Let's look at the bright side! Iolaus, it's only a play. Everyone knows those things aren't based on any kind of reality. When playwrights don't know things they just make them up. License to lie, you know."

Iolaus dropped back down to sit on his log, shaking his head and wagging a finger at his partner. "Oh, no! Uh uh. I said that! That's what I told her. You know what she said?"

"I'm afraid to ask."

"She said," he didn't bother with the clasped hands this time, but still managed to evoke the maiden by mimicking her light, rapturous voice. "'Oh, but this play _is_ real! The playwright is one of Hercules' oldest and dearest friends and Hercules told him the story _himself_!'"

Hercules, suddenly finding himself on the defensive, sat up and held out his massive left hand, palm out in a warding gesture. "Now, you know perfectly well I had nothing to do with this! I mean, seriously! The playwright is one of my oldest and dearest friends? I don't even know any -"

"Salmoneus."

"Huh?"

"Salmoneus," Iolaus repeated, voice grim.

"Sal - _Salmoneus_? A playwright? Since when did Salmoneus . . . oh!" Hercules' voice died away. His face went blank and his gaze unfocused.

"Oh?" Iolaus demanded. "Oh? Oh? Oh, what? What 'oh'?"

"Huh? Oh, oh nothing." Hercules shook himself, waving a hand as if to dispell Iolaus' questions. "It's nothing only . . . you know, I did see Salmoneus. It must have been five, six months ago. While I was waiting for you in Corinth. Now, he didn't say _anything_ about writing a play." Hercules spoke firmly, wanting to be very clear on this point. "But, you know, he was asking me a lot of questions."

"Questions? About?"

"Ah, well, about our travels . . . and things we've done . . . and . . . you."

"Well, what did you tell him then?"

Hercules turned to his memories, casting his mind back over the months and miles.

Corinth.

Hercules and Salmoneus sat across from one another in the dim light of a tavern above the harbor. The tavern's shutters were open to a crisp autumn afternoon. Bright sunlight poured down on white marble buildings, sparkled across the water and cast triremes and barges and fine sailing ships into sharp relief. The demi-god sipped a mug of cool cider. Stray sunbeams danced around the room, catching odd reflective surfaces - an ancient bronze shield on the wall, an apple in a bowl of fruit on the bar, a splash of clear, dark red in a frieze near the ceiling - all glowed in the dim light.

Relaxed, with the warm scent of bread baking and the promise of a hot meal, Hercules let himself grow introspective.

"He's a proud warrior, and I know it must be daunting for him to travel with me. More than half the time it's as if he were invisible. It's like people get blinded by my," his voice turned ironic and self-deprecating, "heroic magnificence. He never gets the respect he deserves! And I know that sometimes he even doubts himself. But I never doubt him. His friendship means more to me than the accolades of all of Greece. And I swear, Salmoneus, by all the gods, I would not be half the man I am, wouldn't accomplish half the things I do, if I didn't have Iolaus by my side!"

Hercules blinked his way back to the present and found Iolaus waiting, watching him.

"So what did you tell him?" he asked again. "Did you say anything that might have led him to write that . . . that . . . that . . . eeeeyargghhh?"

Hercules dropped his gaze to the ground, took a deep breath, then raised his head and looked his best friend right in the eye.

"Absolutely not!" he said.

. . . . .

In the small village of Cythera, the men had gathered in the inn to discuss their problems.

"What I think," said one of the elders, "is, there needs to be a rule. If you dig up a giant, egg-shaped gemstone, you damn well bury it back again before it hatches!"

Several others nodded and cheered, but the headman only sighed. "A good thought, but a little too late, I'm afraid. We think we've got problems now, but you all know they're only going to get worse. We need a hero!"

Just at that moment the door swung open to reveal a tall, handsome man in gilded armor and a rich, red cape. He entered the room with a flouish, his timing so impeccable that a cynic might suspect he'd been eavesdropping, waiting for just the right moment. Putting his foot up on a bench, he brandished a shining sword and said, "fear not, simple, rustic peasant folk! For I, the greatest hero Greece has ever known, have come to save you from your peril!"

With one joyful voice the taverngoers cried out, "Hercules!"

A little old man, drinking alone in a corner, looked expectantly towards the door. "Where's your little blond buddy, Iolaus?"

"My little . . .? Herc- I- I- . . . Hercules? I'm not Hercules!"

"But you said . . .?"

"Look, winged sandals?" He rose into the air, wings on the back of his sandals flapping madly. "Shield of Invisibility?" He spun his shield, disappearing and reappearing. He motioned to his face and gave them a grin that would do any used chariot salesman proud. "Golden smile! Eh?"

The locals exchanged blank looks.

"Cupid?" one guessed.

"Hermes?"

"The Bluebird of Happiness?"

"No! No!" The newcomer was almost shouting with frustration. He took a deliberate, deep breath, trying to regain some of his composure, and said grandly, "It is I! Perseus!"

The tavern's denizens failed to be enlightened.

"You know! Perseus!" he encouraged them. "Wandering hero! Monster slayer! Son of Zeus!"

"Son of Zeus?" a farmer protested. "But, I thought Hercules was the son of Zeus?"

Perseus sighed. "Yes, Hercules is _also_ a son of Zeus. But so am I!"

"Oh, now, wait a minute," the headman mused. "Perseus . . . Perseus. Yes, you know, I think I _have_ heard of you. Was your mother a cow?"

"Certainly not!" Perseus was affronted. "My mother was a beautiful princess!" He raised his eyes to the heavens, or at least to the tavern's dark, cobwebby ceiling, and said piously, "Zeus came to her as a shining shower of gold."

Now they were all nodding vigorously. "So," a herdsman ventured, "just how, exactly, did that work anyway? I mean, are we talking gold _dust_ or gold _coins_ . . .?"

"He whacked her on the head with an ingot and had his way with her," a wit hiding back in the shadows suggested.

"Do you _mind_?" Perseus shrieked. "This is my _mother_ you're talking about! I thought you were in trouble and needed my help?"

"Oh, right. Sorry." The headman sighed, then brightened. "So, can you get hold of Hercules?"

"No!"

"Oh. Oh well, then." He looked around at his fellow townsmen and they sort of all nodded, like they were saying 'any demigod in a storm', and then he turned back to Perseus to explain. "Well, what happened was, couple 'o weeks ago some morons decided to go dig into an old silver mine back in the hills that's been closed up as long as anyone can remember. Pretty soon they come running back, all excited. Found them a giant gemstone, they said. Bigger than a barrel of ale and shaped like an egg. They came back to town to get a wagon to carry it and some levers and tools to shift it with, but first they got drunk to celebrate. By the time they got back up there the next morning, it was starting to hatch. Don't know what it's hatching into, exactly. Something all tentacles and claws and fangs and stingers, I expect. And now, as if a hatching monster isn't bad enough, we've got thieves and bandits who heard about the giant gemstone and want to steal it, and warlords who heard about the baby monster and want to capture it to help them take over Greece. And that's why we need a hero!"

Perseus thought about it. "Okay, so what's the incentive?"

The villagers looked at one another, confused. "Doing good deeds?" the headman suggested. "Saving innocent people. Defeating monsters and bandits and warlords? Being, in general, you know, a hero?"

"Yeah, yeah. I get that. But what else? I mean, c'mon! There must be something! A virgin princess?"

They shook their heads.

"Some fabulous treasure? No? How about just a bunch of virgins in general?"

"Virgin . . . maidens?"

Perseus glowered at him. "Of course maidens!"

"Oh. Then, no. I don't think we have any virgin maidens."

"Antiochus has a nice little goat," one of the locals suggested facetiously.

"Yeah," a teenage boy behind the bar piped up, "but she kicks if you try to get fresh with her." The tavern went completely silent and the boy turned red as he found himself the sudden focus of everyone's stares. "I've . . . I've heard."

Perseus looked thoughtful. "Kicks . . . hard?"

"Yeah. Pretty hard."

"Well, then, I just don't see how you expect to attract a hero."

"You know," the headman said, "you're right. I think we'd better just wait for Hercules."

"And," the old man in the corner piped up, "his little blond buddy, Iolaus!"

. . . .

". . . and it's just not fair!" Perseus slouched on a divan in the great banqueting hall on Mount Olympus and kicked the corner of a low table petulantly with the toe of his winged sandal. "If I had an adoring sidekick like Iolaus, I'll bet I'd be inspired to do great deeds all the time too. Then I'd show those stupid peasants! I'd kill all the monsters and capture all the theives and defeat all the warlords. Then they'd hail _me_ as the greatest hero Greece has ever known, and I'll bet that'd teach Mr. High and Mighty Hercules a thing or two!"

There wasn't currently a banquet in progress, but it was a comfortable room, even by Olympian standards, and a place where the gods and godesses tended to congregate whenever they had nowhere else to be. One of the side effects of being immortal, and the cause of 90 percent of the world's problems, was that gods were easily bored. Even Perseus' petulant whining would be tolerated, if it offered the possibility of a diversion.

"Are you sure you'd be up to a sidekick?" Artemis asked. "Iolaus is pretty high-maintenance. He's already been dead four times, you know."

"There! You see? My point exactly! It's not fair! Here Hercules has this wonderful, pretty, adoring little man following him everywhere, worshipping the ground he walks on, and Hercules doesn't even take care of him. But I'd take care of him, if he were my sidekick!" Perseus gazed off into the distance, put one hand on his chest and sighed dramatically.

Ares leaned over and whispered to Aphrodite. "He breaks into song and I'm going to fry him."

The Goddess of Love shushed him and addressed the demi-god. "So, Perseus, just how, exactly, does this whole 'sidekick' thing work, do you think?"

"It's a macho, male thing," he told her, voice patronizing. "I doubt a female would understand."

Her eyes narrowed. "Try me."

"Well . . . ."

. . . .

_Look now into the imagination of Perseus._

A thought cloud opens against the blackness and, within the cloud an image forms. It is a forest, green and gold, dappled with sunlight. Two figures move soundlessly through the trees.

This is a silent thought cloud. Perseus doesn't have the imagination for talkies

Hercules is in the lead. A heavy pack dangles from his belt. He carries a low, carved divan over his left shoulder and an enormous parasol is tucked under his left arm. His right hand clasps Iolaus' left hand and he leads the vacuously smiling hunter along solicitously.

Hercules stops suddenly! He flings his arm out, dramatically placing himself between Iolaus and what lies before them!

In a clearing just ahead, three fetching maidens, a precociously adorable child, an old woman and a blind cripple cower in fear. A huge hydra looms before them, hissing malevolently. To their left, half a dozen bandits snarl and brandish clubs. To their right, a warlord, bristling with weapons, laughs cruelly while his horde of mercenaries sharpen their swords.

Hercules carefully sets up the divan, making certain it is level, then opens the parasol and jams it into the ground so that it shades the divan. Gently, he helps Iolaus seat himself. Then he opens his pack and removes a folding table, which he sets up at the hunter's elbow. Next, he takes out a pitcher, a chalice and a platter of grapes and assorted cheeses. He sets the platter on the table, pours lemonade from the pitcher into the chalice, adds a straw, tops it with a tiny paper umbrella and hands it to his partner. Once he is certain that his friend is comfortable, he turns to face the situation in the clearing which, oddly, hasn't changed.

First, Hercules prepares himself by doing some deep knee bends and flexing his biceps whilst Iolaus looks on admiringly. Finally, hands on his hips, he storms into the fray.

The bandits come at him from the left. Hercules simply swings one mighty fist, catching the lead bandit in the chest. That bandit falls into the bandit behind him, who falls into the bandit behind him and so on and so forth. Sitting on the ground, the line of bandits slide backwards until the last in line comes into forceful contact with a tree. Like dominoes, the other bandits slam into him. Their heads knock together and they topple, conveniently falling half to the left and half to the right.

Hercules strikes Minor Heroic Pose Number One and looks back at Iolaus, who is grinning and nodding idiotically, waving one fist in the air and sucking on his straw.

Appropriately inspired, the demigod addresses the hydra. It strikes, he swings and knocks it aside. It comes at him again and this time he grabs it by its hood and lifts it bodily. He swings it in the air, making huge circles, then swiftly wraps it around a tree and ties it in a bow. The hydra's eyes spin dizzily. It's tongue hangs out and it is down for the count.

Again, Hercules checks on Iolaus. Now the hunter has acquired a pennant that reads "HERCULES!" and he's waving it enthusiastically. Hercules smiles with fond modestly and turns to deal with the warlord.

Undaunted, the warlord steps forward brandishing his sword. He leans forward, looks the demigod in the eye, twists his face into a frightful snarl and roars (silently). Hercules, unarmed, twists his own face into an even more frightful snarl, clenches his fists, leans right up into the warlord's face and roars back (silently). The warlord gasps and reels back in shock, his face going dead pale, before he faints in terror. His horde drops their weapons and runs away weeping in fear.

The old woman and the blind cripple throw themselves at Hercules' feet in gratitude, as the three maidens embrace him and the precociously adorable child clings to his legs and gazes up at him with devotion. Hercules strikes Major Heroic Pose Number Seven and looks over to Iolaus.

Iolaus is sitting up now, nodding eagerly, beaming at him and clapping his hands in delight. He catches the demi-god's eye, clasps his hands under his chin and gazes at him in adoration. An ornate little dialogue box appears at the bottom of the thought window. It says:

"MY HERO!"

. . . .

Persephone, the gentle queen of the underworld, had tears in her eyes. She was trying so hard not to laugh in Perseus' face!

The other assorted deities had no such compunctions. Ares had even snorted wine. He brushed it off his bare, bronzed chest and shook the droplets from his fingertips. "I'd give a good sword to see him explain that to Hercules!"

"Hah," Artemis said. "I'd like to see him explain it to Iolaus!"

Aphrodite leaned forward, a calculating expression on her exquisitely beautiful face. "So, Perseus, what would you give for a chance to try to get Iolaus to be your sidekick instead of Hercules'?"

"Oh, I'd give anything!" he exclaimed.

"Be more specific."

"But . . . well, I don't know. What would it take, do you think?"

Aphrodite looked around. In addition to herself, there were three goddesses present - Artemis, Athena, and Persephone - and three gods - Ares, Hephaestus, and Hades. "We could keep Hercules busy for three days. Without his interference, you could ask Iolaus to go to Cythera with you and try to convince him to be your sidekick instead of Hercules'."

"You'd do that for me?" he asked, delighted.

"We might. For a price."

. . . .

"Hercules!"

"Nmumphm."

"Hercules! Wakey wakey! Herkie Pooh?"

Hercules cracked one eye open a slit. It was that time of day that comes between "early this morning" and "late last night". He glowered at Aphrodite, who leaned over him, looking radiant in diaphenous pink robes. Hercules was an early riser, but this was ridiculous.

"Go 'way," he muttered.

"Nope, not gonna! Come on! Wake up already!"

"Nope, not gonna," he replied, mocking her.

"Okay, fine," the goddess pouted. "I'll just make out with Iolaus until you do."

Hercules sat up at that. "Aphrodite!"

His half-sister ignored him. Crossing to where the hunter lay on the other side of the fire, she sat beside him, then slid her left arm under his shoulders and lifted him to rest against her ample bosom. Iolaus was sound asleep. His wild mane of golden hair was matted flat against his head on the left side. Lines creased his left cheek from sleeping on a wrinkle in his bedroll and a light coat of golden stubble dusted his chin. He was snoring softly.

Aphrodite ran her right hand across his chest and down his stomach and kissed him on the mouth, toying gently with his lower lip.

"Aphrodite!" Herc was aghast. "What are you doing?"

The goddess of love released Iolaus' mouth long enough to look up at her brother. "Herc, if you don't know that, you have been single _waaaay_ too long!"

"Very funny! Now stop that! It isn't nice to mess with him like that when he's sleeping."

"Aw, I'm just trying to wake him up."

"What? One body part at a time?"

"Hey, ya gotta start somewhere!"

Iolaus was smiling in his sleep and mumbling. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and his expression of pleasure froze, then melted into one of horror. With a terrified cry he pushed himself out of Aphrodite's arms, rolled through the remains of the previous night's campfire and came to a stop against Hercules' bedroll.

"Aphrodite! What are you doing?!"

"Now, Iolaus. I _know_ you know what I was doing."

"Yeah, but . . . but . . . but Hephaestus'll kill me!" He jumped up and ran off toward the stream. A moment later they heard a huge splash and a loud, "aaaauuuugghhh!"

"Water must be cold this morning," Hercules observed mildly.

"Oh, well." Wrapping her loose robes around herself, Aphrodite rose and took a seat on one of the two logs that still flanked the fire pit, interspersed with the two men's bedrolls. "Now that you're both finally awake, we can talk." With a casual wave of her hand, she conjured a cheerful blaze and a huge basket filled with fruit and pastries.

Iolaus came back to camp dripping wet and wringing water out of his long hair. "Aphrodite," he said in greeting, his voice still about half an octave too high.

She offered him the basket of food. Ever willing to eat practically anything, he helped himself to a sweet roll and passed the basket on to Hercules. For several minutes the three of them sat eating in a companionable silence. It was Hercules who finally broke it,

"Okay," he said, "so, as much as we would both like to spend all morning snacking on your muffins -"

Aphrodite snickered and Iolaus choked on his honey bun. Hercules rolled his eyes. "I refuse to speak to either of you until you both grow up."

"Sheesh!" Aphrodite said. "Are you ever not a morning person! Is he always this bad in the morning?"

"This is nothing! You should see him when he has a hangover."

"Oh, right!" Hercules snorted. "Like you've got any room to talk!"

"I am always perfectly cheerful in the morning," Iolaus informed him loftily, "just so long as I'm left to my own devices."

"Left to your own devices, you'd sleep until noon!"

"And very cheerfully."

Hercules sighed one of his huge, deep sighs that said that he hoped they appreciated how patient he was being with both of them. "Aphrodite, what are you doing here?"

The Goddess of Love addressed her answer to Iolaus. "I'm just trying to get you guys in a good mood. I need to borrow my big bro for a few days, Curly, if you think you could get by without him."

"I could probably manage. What do you need him for?"

"Oh," she fisted her hands and let a look of anger cross her lovely face, "it's that stupid Discord! Somehow she got hold of an old device that Heph made a long time ago and she set it off inside my main temple in Corinth!"

"What sort of device?" Hercules asked, interested.

"Well, way back in the early days after Zeus defeated the Titans, there were all sorts of magical weapons and power centers left over from the war. For centuries they kept causing trouble because every few decades someone would find one and try to use it for their own purpose, whatever that was. Daddy finally gathered up all the weapons and locked them away where no one but him could get to them, but that left about two dozen locations that were, in some way, powerful. You know? An enchanted spring or hill or oak tree or whatnot? So Heph came up with these devices to protect them. The device is just a little, gold ball with spikes on it, but when you roll it into the middle of a given area, a room or meadow or whatever, it sort of blossoms into a bunch of tiny spikes that spread out and embed themselves in the perimeter and create an impenetrable force field. It'll let most things through - animals and the wind and whatnot. Otherwise it would disrupt the natural balance, having dead zones all over Greece. But neither gods nor men can pass."

"And Discord got hold of one and locked you out of your temple?"

"Yeah! And! Even worse, she's got my priestesses and some of my followers trapped inside. You've got to help me, Bro! As a demi-god, you're neither god nor man! You can get inside and dismantle the trap! Please? You don't want all those poor, lovely, lonely women to starve, do you?"

"Starve?" Hercules raised his eyebrows, amused even as he wondered why she was overstating her case. "You said things can pass through the force field. Surely you can get food in to them?"

The godess of love huffed out an annoyed breath and regarded him, hands on her hips. "What? You want me to pelt them with fruit?"

"Yeah, Herc!" Iolaus joined in. "You want her to pelt them fruit? Come on! Whaddya say? Let's go rescue some lovely, lonely women, why don't we?"

"Uh, Iolaus? She didn't say 'us'. She just said 'me'."

"You're not gonna leave me here?" The hunter was aghast. "What? I can help you with slimy monsters and big, ugly warlords, but I'm not good enough to help you with beautiful women? What kind of friendship is that?"

"There's nothing you can do," Hercules pointed out. "You're a man. You can't get past the trap."

"Yeah, but I could . . .," he fished around for some contribution he could make. "I could stand outside and do something to distract all the priestesses and lovesick women."

"What?" Aphrodite asked, amused. "A striptease?"

"Well, uh . . . ."

"No." Hercules was being firm. "I'm sorry, Iolaus, but I don't want you in the middle of a feud between my divine relatives. Especially when there's nothing you can do to help. Look, just relax and take a vacation while I'm gone. Fish, hunt, sleep until noon."

Iolaus accepted defeat with poor grace, slouching on his log and resting his chin in his hands. "You could at least bring me a souvenir."

Hercules leaned over and thwacked him on the shoulder. "We both know you're more than capable of picking up your own souvenirs. I'll be back before you know it."

"Three days," Aphrodite said. She took her half-brother's arm and spoke again, as if she were addressing thin air instead of the two men. "Three days, starting now." And on that note goddess and demi-god vanished.

The warmth from the fire was drying out Iolaus' soaked clothes nicely and Aphrodite had left behind the basket of goodies. The hunter slipped down to sit on the ground, so he could lean back against the log. He helped himself to another piece of baklava and considered whether he wanted to fish, go hunting, or just wait until he was completely dry and then go back to bed for awhile.

Bed was sounding pretty good. Comfortable and pleasantly warm, the drowsy warrior had just started to let his eyes drift closed when some subtle change in the forest around him put him on alert. Remaining still, keeping his eyes nearly closed, he peered around the clearing from under lowered lashes.

Fifteen paces to his right the scenery was . . . wrong. Tall weeds moved with no wind to propel them, a tree branch was pushed aside by an unseen force and two footstep-shaped impressions appeared in the damp moss and did not fill with water.

Iolaus sighed. Gods, he thought. Gods and all their relatives, too!

"You know, Perseus, it's very rude to stand around invisible and spy on people. And, also, more than a little bit creepy."

The branch shifted again and Perseus appeared, flustered. "I didn't . . . I wasn't . . . I just got here and I didn't want to frighten you."

Iolaus snorted.

"How did you know I was there?" the demi-god asked.

"I recognized your invisible shield. I've not seen it before, you know."

"Oh." Perseus considered that explanation, brow furrowed and a puzzled look on his face.

"If you're looking for Hercules, he isn't here right now." It occurred to the hunter that siccing Perseus on Hercules, who couldn't stand his half-brother, might be a good way to get even with his partner for abandoning him in the middle of nowhere while he went off to consort with Aphrodite's priestesses and followers.

_Iolaus, Iolaus,_ he thought to himself, _your best friend tries to protect you and keep you from harm's way and you're wondering whether you should do something childish and petty to get even with him? What's wrong with you?_

"You know, Perseus," he said, "actually I think they were looking for you too. See, Dite's got a problem at her temple in Corinth that only demi-gods can help her out with. Hercules has gone to work on it, but I just know he'd love it if you were to show up and, you know, show him how to do it right."

Perseus tipped his nose up, putting on airs and giving Iolaus an unwanted view of his nostrils. "I'm aware of Aphrodite's difficulties and I'm afraid Hercules will just have to muddle through as best he can without me. I'm on my way to take care of a crisis in Cythera. I thought that, since Hercules is occupied elsewhere, you might like to accompany me on my quest for a change."

Surprised, Iolaus turned this over in his head a few times, trying to get a handle on it. "Are you saying that you need me to help you?"

Perseus laughed nervously. "Help? How cute! Uh, that wasn't exactly what . . . uh . . . is that what Hercules says when he wants you to go somewhere with him? He asks you to 'help' him?"

"When Hercules wants me to go somewhere with him? He usually says, 'C'mon, Iolaus! Get the lead out! Are you going to sleep all day? It's going to be dawn in just a few hours, you know? Come _on_ already! I'm _waiting!_' And then he uses those big, long legs and his demi-godly endurance to run across country at an insane pace that no mere mortal could ever hope to match and that none but me would probably ever even try to and when he gets wherever we're going before I do, he acts all superior like he won something or something." Iolaus looked up and caught Perseus staring back at him in a daze. "Oh, sorry! Was I ranting? Don't mind me. Look, Perseus, what exactly is it that you want from me?"

"I just want you to journey with me to Cythera and be with me in my quest as you would do for Hercules."

"I see," Iolaus lied. "And what is this crisis in Cythera, anyway?"

Perseus explained about the egg-shaped gemstone and the hatching monster and the bandits and the warlords. Iolaus listened, left hand cupping his right elbow while his right hand, in turn, cupped his chin.

"And you're going to take this all on by yourself?" he asked.

Perseus, mishearing doubt as adulation, puffed out his chest. "That's just what us heroes do. Well, with your, heh heh, 'help', of course."

"Ah, yes. With my 'help'. Right." Iolaus sighed. "Give me a minute to put out the fire and get my pack together."

In just a few minutes the unlikely pair had taken to the road together. As they strode off in the direction of Cythera, Perseus cleared his throat and spoke apologetically. "I'm afraid there's not much in the way of rewards for this one. No mountains of gold or virgin princesses or even just regular virgins. Although," he dropped an unwelcome arm over Iolaus' shoulders and leaned in close, "I do understand there might be a goat in it. If you like that sort of thing."


End file.
